


Studies in Miniature: Luphomoid Through the Looking Glass

by Anna Marie Darkholme (WierdAlienFantasies)



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Study, Childhood, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-24 02:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16630745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WierdAlienFantasies/pseuds/Anna%20Marie%20Darkholme
Summary: Nebula was not born so much as made. The stories of her life are written on the cold steel across her body, from the suffering of a childhood under Thanos to the delicate dance of being a not-quite-guardian. Hidden beneath all the circuitry she retains a heart of flesh, a heart capable of the same joy and fear and love as any other sentient.(A collection of Nebula-centric one-shots guest-starring Gamora, the Guardians and the galaxy's worst father.)





	1. Loss

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is my attempt at the "Studies in Miniature" challenge. I do not have the time to commit to NaNoWriMo this year (or potentially ever), but still wanted to stretch myself over November. Originally I was just going to use it as an exercise to develop my writing, but I was quite fond of a few of the pieces so have decided to polish them up and post them here. I'll try and get multiple up a day until I'm up-to-date.
> 
> The challenge didn't require you to stick to the same character, but I have a deep love for Nebula and wanted to push myself a bit further and so I will be sticking with her.
> 
>  
> 
> Here is the link to the challenge:  
> https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/9t7xjn/studies_in_miniature_daily_prompts_november_2018/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula's thoughts as she realises she's finally become more machine than herself.

With spluttering gasps and jerking shudders, Nebula reclaims consciousness. Having spent most of her energy battling back to awareness, she lies where she is while she catches her breath. She knows where she is before she even takes a look around. The scratch of the cot she lies on and the overly bright lighting overhead is all too familiar. She is in the medical chamber on Sanctuary. She must have passed out during her latest enhancement.

With a harsh shove Nebula forces herself into a sitting position. Her body protests at the movement, her neurones firing off in a symphony of agony. She tries to sift through the pain to locate her latest change, but with her whole body aching it is impossible to pinpoint any one injury. Nebula grits her teeth. She refuses to give in. She has to know what has been done to her, has to know what part of her has been cut out and replaced by a mechanical mockery of life.

Slowly she studies her body. Purple blood and deep midnight bruises obscure much of her skin, making it hard to search for any tell-tale surgical scar. At least she still has three limbs of flesh and blood (excluding the repair modules inserted along her skeleton that is). She feels a brief flash of relief that she has not awoken this time to another arm of cold, unfeeling steel. Minutes pass by, and Nebula finds only the mark of old enhancements on her body.

With a prickling dread she realises there is only one place left. There is a slight tremor in her right hand as she raises it to trace the features of her face. Bar her left eye socket, which she is aware of if not yet used to, her features retain the soft heat of flesh. Slowly she moves her hand back, tracing the curve of her forehead. At the crown of her head she encounters something that stops her dead. A strip, several inches wide, far too smooth and cold to be _her_.

Nebula traces the length of the strip, notes how it stretches all the way across the back of her head to the base of her skull. So, she has located her latest enhancement. But what purpose could such a strip serve? It is too smooth to have any offense value, and not thick enough to provide any real protection. Then it hits her. The strip is not the enhancement. It is merely the cover, the seal protecting the work underneath. Thanos finally grew tired of cutting her body away from her piece by piece. This time he went deeper, ripped out a part of who she was. This time, he took part of her _brain_.

The knowledge presses down on Nebula like a deadweight. When she was being stripped of her flesh she could at least cling to the fact that, underneath the steel and electricity, it was still _her_. Now she can no longer lie to herself. She is not the girl she had been when Thanos found her. Now she is a monstrosity, a mismatch of spare parts. Now she is more _machine_ than living thing.


	2. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Nebula thinks of the ‘greatest feeling in the universe’, and how it changes over time.

When Nebula is just a young girl, love is a fairy-tale. The other children of Thanos mention it in their whispers of their home planets, of their people, _of their family_. Nebula struggles to understand it though. It seems to change depending on who speaks of it. Gamora tells of her mother and father sacrificing their portions so she herself could eat; Proxima speaks of a spear handed down mother to daughter as a coming of age gift; Korath, if prompted, will mumble about his parents and the tender embraces they shared.

Because (in Nebula’s eyes at least) there is no common thread linking these stories love becomes a magical thing. From the way the others talk of it, the gleam in their eyes and softening of their frowns, love is something they used to treasure. Nebula suspects Gamora may still treasure it, as even at their tender age there is something different about her favourite sister. Thanos never mentions love. Nebula almost asks him, but she already knows to fear his wraith and cannot quite work up the courage to risk angering him with a question.

Sometimes at night, whilst the others sleep and Thanos retreats to his quarters, Nebula imagines what love would feel like. She was taken too young to remember any love she may have had before Thanos, but she can use the snippets the others have shared to build her own picture. Love, she decides, feels like when she wins a fight and when Gamora shows her the games she used to play on Zen Whoberi at the same time. It tastes like fresh yaro root, smells like the flowers she found when Thanos took them to a forest planet to train. It is the best feeling, and she can’t wait to feel it for real.

As Nebula grows up, she realises love is a lie. As she grows into a teenager, on the cusp of womanhood, she dismisses her earlier view as childish. Her world is made up of pain and loss, jealousy and disappointment. There is no love, there has never be any love and never will be any love. Thanos does not love her. She has accepted that, can settle for his respect (which she _will_ earn, just as she _will_ defeat Gamora next time they fight). As for her siblings, she spends little time with most as they now train for different roles.

The only one she continues to see day in day out is Gamora. What she feels for Gamora cannot possibly be love. Her messy swirl of jealousy and admiration, indifference and rapt attention, deep hate and deeper not-hate is far too confusing to be love. And anyways, Gamora does not love her back. If she did, she would surely let her win one fight, just one, to save her from another painful enhancement.

If she thinks about it more closely, Nebula wonders if Thanos did not invent love as another punishment for her. He may well have told the other children to spread the stories, to put fanciful ideas in her head. It is something he would do, carefully nurture a spark of hope in her just so he can later snuff it out.

When Nebula finally escapes from Thanos’s clutches, she has to admit she was wrong about love. It does in fact exist, even if she’s never experienced it. She does not mind, as she’s realised what love really is. A weakness. She has suffered enough in her life for her weakness. She does not need another weakness, another source of pain.

Love must be one of the greatest weaknesses in the universe. It even softened her sister, the one opponent she cannot defeat, usually so strong. Nebula watched her sister as love wormed it’s way into her brain, into her _heart_. Gamora’s love of her newfound band of misfits nearly got her killed. Even as she fled the battle, Nebula kept an eye on what was unfolding. She will never admit to the way her breath had caught in her throat when she thought the powerstone had burned her sister up. Without love, her sister would never have done something so foolish as touch the Terran as he held the stone.

More time passes. Nebula, more than most sentients, knows that people change over time. After all she is nothing like she once was before Thanos and his surgeons sunk their scalpels into her. Change can happen below the surface as well. New information can lead to the changing of plans and, deeper still, the changing of opinions. Nebula hates to admit she was wrong about anything as it is too close to admitting _weakness_ , but it turns out she was wrong about love. It is no fairy-tale, nor is it a lie. Whilst love can lead to weakness, in itself it is no weaker than any other emotion.

Nebula understands this now because what she once thought was impossible has come to pass. She _feels_ love. She _felt_ love, it turns out, for many years. It is perhaps unsurprising that she did not recognise it for so long as it was nothing like she expected. If she were inclined to humour, she thinks she would laugh looking back to what she thought love would be like as a child.

Love may be nothing like she once imagined but that is not a bad thing. She would not change how it feels even if she could. She was right about one thing as a child- love truly is the best feeling. She suspects love may very well be different for different sentients, but as she can never know for sure she does not pursue the thought. All that matters is what love is to her. Feeling love is complex and beyond words, but love itself is beautifully simple. Love is the fierce feeling that roars through her when she leaps to her sister’s aid, love is the spark she sees reflected back at herself when she looks into brown eyes.

To Nebula, love is _Gamora_.


	3. Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She may not understand friends, but enemies? Nebula knows those all too well.

Enemy. In each of the languages Nebula knows (and she knows more than she cares to count), there is a word to express the concept. A universal idea of antagonism focused on another. She suspects it may be a deep seated biological drive. It would make sense, as to survive you need to be capable of identifying those that threaten you and then neutralising that threat. Of course, she has never studied biology beyond the anatomy of sentient races and the possible uses of the flora and fauna of inhabited worlds, so she may be wrong. May be, but is unlikely to be.

Nebula herself has many enemies. Or more accurately, Nebula herself is the enemy of many. Even as Thanos’s least favourite daughter she was deployed often, set loose on many targets. Her body count is higher than her sister’s meagre twelve, but still countable (unlike Thanos and her other siblings who, as generals, assisted in the massacre of _half of worlds_ ). It would make sense that the loved ones of those she killed view her as an enemy. Most of them never saw her though, and therefore their animosity is directed more at a _concept_ than her.

Nebula’s crimes do not end at assassination. Her cybernetics make her uniquely suited to data theft, and she has never been above more standard thieving when the need arises. If her treatment under the Soveriegn and the warrants out by the Nova Corps are anything to go by she is considered an “enemy” not just of states, but of entire worlds and galactic empires.

Nebula does not really view any of these people (or _races_ ) as enemies though. If it came down to it, she is certain she could defeat any of them in combat. They pose no threat to her, and so she is content to live her life and leave them to go on living theirs. She is not even aware of many of them, fatherless sons and bereaved siblings who swore to hunt her down and kill her but never even discovered her name (beyond _dog of Thanos_ , unlike Gamora’s vaunted _deadliest woman in the galaxy_ ).

In Nebula’s eyes, she has but one enemy. The being responsible for making her every day tinged with agony, the source of all her suffering, the one who ripped her apart then stitched her back together with the wrong parts. _Thanos._ Everything he did to make her a better weapon, she now uses to try and destroy him. And yet Thanos himself does not think of her as a threat. He does not think of her at all. Whilst Gamora’s betrayal weighs heavily on him, he did not even notice her own defection and subsequent disappearance. She is not _his_ enemy.

Nebula does not care. She does not need to be Thanos’s enemy to kill him. And she will kill him, she is certain. Maybe, once his body cools, she will seek out one of the many races or people who view her as an enemy and just let them do what they will with her.


	4. Canon Divergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if... Thanos's favourite child had been Nebula?

SLAM!

With a grace belying the savagery of the move, Nebula sends her sister crashing to the ground. As she dives down to finish the fight, she catches sight of Thanos out of the corner of her eye. His face is stretched into a proud smile that has her heart swelling just slightly. That her father is proud of her amazes Nebula. She pushes herself all the harder to retain that pride, to retain her beloved position of the favourite child.

Her attention snaps back to the fight on hand as she lands on Gamora. Her sister manages to half roll out of the way so that Nebula is forced to grip her and pull her back in to grapple. As she closes in for the final chokehold, she ignores Gamora’s blows as they glance off her back and shoulders. Nebula easily slips under her sister’s defences and prepares to finish the fight. This close she can taste the sweat coating her sister’s skin, feel the heat burning within her. She is so close, in fact, that she can hear her desperate whispers.

“Sister, sister please! Let me win this one. Father… he will rip me to pieces. Please sister, just this once…”

Nebula hesitates a moment, her grip frozen in a hold too weak to win the fight but too strong for Gamora to break out of. Nebula does not want to lose, even by throwing the fight. There is no telling what Thanos will do to her if she disappoints him. But she can sense Gamora’s plea is heartfelt. Her sister is not attempting to trick her, she genuinely fears for her life. While Nebula relishes being the favourite child, she relishes her sisterhood with Gamora more.

Looking down at her now, seeing the glint of metal breaking the green of her face from the last time she defeated her, Nebula realises she cannot allow her sister to face another round of enhancements. Steeling herself for what is to come, Nebula quietly hisses out through gritted teeth.

“Listen carefully. You will have one chance. I will shift my stance slightly to maneuver you into a better position to execute the choke hold. As I do so, my left arm will be momentarily exposed. Focus your assault there, and you will be able to win.”

Gamora’s eyes widen, but she nods in understanding. Taking a breath to steady herself, Nebula does as she said she would. To her credit Gamora executes the plan perfectly. As Nebula shifts herself she strikes upwards, elbow colliding with Nebula’s forearm. CRACK. Nebula hears the break before she feels it. She does not falter even as the agony crashes into her, but her left arm is now useless. Gamora, no longer restrained, is out from under Nebula in one smooth roll. A heartbeat later Nebula feels a weight on her back and is forced to the ground. Gamora holds her there, knees on the small of her back and her neck, controlling Nebula with her uninjured arm. Despite herself, Nebula lets out a growl of frustration as she struggles futilely. Gamora maintains her grip, but does not wrench her arm from her socket as she knows any of their other siblings would. Nebula does not stop struggling, but it is clear Gamora has her effectively pinned. Two minutes pass, then a slow clapping catches both girl’s attention.

Thanos has risen, a strange expression on his face as he applauds. Slowly, like a predator stalking cornered prey, he stalks over to where they lie on the mats.

“Gamora, child, you surprise me. You have finally defeated your sister. It seems you will not require the next round of modifications I had planned. As for you Nebula…”

Nebula flinches at the ice with which he speaks her name.

“I am very disappointed in you. I know you are capable of more. Of all my children, I have the highest hopes for you. Still, if we fix that arm of yours, I am sure you will do better next time.”

Gamora and Nebula both silently await orders, neither one daring to breath.

“Gamora, return to the dorms. You may rest for the remainder of the cycle. Nebula, come with me to the medbay. We shall see about fixing that arm of yours right away.”

Gamora is on her feet in a heartbeat, shortly followed by Nebula. As one they bow their heads and reply.

“Yes father.”

Then, Gamora hurries off towards the dorms. Nebula stays where she is, allows Thanos to grab her by her uninjured arm and begin to lead her away. As they reach the edge of the training area, she glances over her shoulder. She sees Gamora, looking back at her. The gratitude, the solidarity she finds shining in her sister’s gaze gives Nebula the strength to straighten her shoulders and raise her head as she faces her punishment head on without fear.

….

Three hours later, Nebula stumbles into the dorms clutching the metal where her left arm used to be. Gamora is by her side in an instant, supporting her weight from her uninjured side and guiding her to her cot. Once she has been set down there, Nebula hisses out between gritted teeth.

“I’m going to kill him Gamora. What he does… I thought it was for the best. I was wrong. He has to be stopped, and I will be the one to do it.”

Gamora seems to consider something, a slight whirring coming from her facial implant as she cocks her head. Then, slowly, a shy grin spreads across her face.

“Not alone you won’t. But, the two of us together? Thanos doesn’t stand a chance.”

Nebula meets her sister’s gaze, sees her own steely determination mirrored there. Extending her right hand, she waits for Gamora to grasp it with her own before clasping it tight.

“Together then, my sister.”

“Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece is based on two canon points:
> 
> 1\. Nebula did not truly care about winning Thanos's fights ("all I wanted was a sister")  
> 2\. Nebula was too proud to ever ask Gamora to throw a fight for her (which she may well have done if she was made aware how badly Nebula suffered for losing).


	5. Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first metaphor challenge. Presenting Nebula: alien, assassin and... atmospheric phenomenon?

Gamora is lightning. Blindingly fast, even Nebula struggles to track let alone match her blows. Like lightning, Gamora never strikes the same target twice. She has no need to; her first assault always achieves the desired result, be that incapacitation or something more permanent. Nebula rarely needs a second assault, but Thanos is always waiting to step in with punishments on the rare occasions she does. Most of all, Gamora is bright and flashy. She draws attention and holds it, her brilliance and dangerous energy holding all around her in rapture. People notice Gamora, are quick to afford her their fear and respect. Though Nebula herself commands a fair amount of fear it is more down to her nightmarish appearance than any aweing aura.

If her sister is lightning, where does that leave Nebula? Although she seems to always be chasing one step behind her sister, she is neither loud nor brash enough to be thunder. Rain is necessary to life, is even welcomed on many an occasion. Nebula is never welcome, and is barely alive herself. It seems, unlike her sister, she has no place in the raging storm.

Gamora may be lightning, but Nebula is mist. Cold, tinged with a sinister edge that leaves her almost unworldly. Like mist, Nebula is often overlooked or underestimated at first. But, slowly, just like mist she crawls in. Before they know it her unwitting target is surrounded, suffocated by her all-encompassing assault. It is easy to forget how many people meet their end ensnared by the sinister embrace of mist; it is easy to forget quite how many people breathe their last gazing into Nebula’s dark eyes. Despite its appearance mist is ephemeral, barely there at all. There is little of Nebula left that has not been replaced. Sometimes she feels almost like a ghost, not really there at all.

Deep down, part of Nebula cannot sustain her resentment at Thanos for favouring Gamora. After all, who would chose mist when they could have lightning?


	6. Black or white?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula doesn't have a favourite colour. As it turns out, she doesn't need one.

Nebula does not have favourites. She has had little exposure to entertainment, can count the holofilms she has watched and songs she has listened to by choice on the same hand. She had few choices to make growing up except get up or give up ( _survive_ or _die_ ). She is aware sentients tend to have personal preferences for little things, ranging from garments of clothing through holofilm to something as simple as colours. She just doesn’t quite understand it.

Of course, Nebula has certain preferences. If given the choice, she will select items she knows her species can safely eat over unknown, potentially poisonous new delicacies. She prefers temperatures within her range of optimal functionality, neither hot enough to sear her flesh nor cold enough to shut down her circuitry. These preferences do not count however, being borne out of pragmatism and survival instead of frivolous whims.

Once, Gamora had no favourites either. Since joining up with her band of misfits though, she has started to pick them up. Being presented with a hundred consequence-free decisions a cycle has given her the freedom to do so. Nebula privately thinks developing such preferences, developing _favourites_ , encourages dangerous complacency. Still, she is content to let her sister do as she pleases. What she does not appreciate is her sister trying to coax similar preferences out of her when she happens to stop by.

Nebula does not need reminders of the differences between herself and Gamora. She does not need the glint of pity that shines in her sister’s eyes when she thinks she is not looking. Favourites are for people, not machines. Nebula certainly does not need any more reminders that she is more of the latter than the former. Despite all this, her sister persists in trying to tease such choices out of her.

“Come Nebula, it is a simple question. Surely you have some preference in terms of colour? Your latest outfit is red, do you like that perhaps?”

Nebula has not until this point given any thought to the colour of the clothes she is wearing, and will probably never give it any thought again. Still, her patience worn thin, Nebula cannot stop herself from snapping out an answer.

“Black! There you go, I’ve chosen a d’ast colour, now leave me alone!”

Nebula feels a small vicious spark of satisfaction in choosing a colour that is not really a colour but a shade. Black is dark, angry and empty, much like Nebula herself. However, all her satisfaction melts when she sees the hurt that flashes across Gamora’s eyes. Her sister does not mean her any harm, not anymore. Swallowing her bitter pride, Nebula deflates slightly. She lowers her head, fixes her gaze on the floor.

“Look I… I don’t have a preference. I don’t think I am capable of choosing. Maybe… maybe you could choose for me?”

She is met by silence. Risking a glance at her sister’s face, she catches her seemingly studying her. Face pulled in a mask of consideration, she muses.

“I did see a pair of matching jumpers. The blue one was my size, and the green would suit you nicely…”

Nebula freezes, panic seizing her. Yes, she enjoys her regained relationship with her sister, but she is not sure she is ready for so brazen a gesture. How will she be able to let Gamora know without hurting her feelings? As Gamora’s face cracks into a smile, Nebula’s panic dissolves away. With a small chuckle, Gamora places a placating hand on her back.

“Sorry sister, I could not help myself. I promise to locate something you will find acceptable. Who knows, you may even find out you do have a favourite after all.”


	7. Education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the children of Thanos require an education. Some take it more seriously than others.

Thanos has no use for idiots. His children need to be not just strong but _smart_. They need to be able to maintain their own bodies and any equipment entrusted to them, to understand basic political structures so as to efficiently dismantle them if required, to remain on top of galactic events so that they can blend in. In short, they need a good education. Thanos himself has little time for such a menial task. Luckily it is all too easy to pick up a scholar from one of the planets he half razes every now and then.

Most of the older children hate their lessons. Proxima and Corvus and Korath would rather be focusing on their destined roles in Thanos’s army. They have little curiosity and even less patience. Forced to attend, they nevertheless find ways to avoid actually paying attention. Proxima and Corvus will sit in the back of the study chamber, more focused on one another’s bodies than the day’s subjects. They do not falter or even _notice_ when Nebula steels furtive glances, curiosity getting the better of her (“the talk” being one of the few subjects Thanos deems useless and therefore does not give them). Korath perks up during mechanics, but otherwise merely doodles half-thought out designs for ever larger guns.

Gamora, ever the perfect daughter, is an attentive student. She is naturally sharp, and anything she can’t initially grasp she quickly masters with her determined hard work. Nebula thinks she remembers Gamora mentioning scholars were renowned above even warriors on her homeworld. Gamora herself certain respects their tutors, deferring to them with a reverence she shows to no others. Like in their combat drills, Gamora invariably comes out on top whenever their understanding is tested.

Nebula thinks she likes her classes. They provide a welcome break from her constant defeat in the physical challenges (being the youngest, she alone has yet to benefit from a growth spurt and consequently just cannot keep up with the others). She is not quite as sharp as Gamora, but she is gifted with good memory and the determination to doggedly work her way through even the most complex theoreticals. It is not enough to earn her the praise Gamora gets, the proud words and pats on the shoulder and head that Nebula has dreamed about. Though if she keeps trying, keeps pushing herself harder, she may receive them _one day_ , and that is enough to keep Nebula focused through all her classes.

Nebula’s favourite class is without a doubt linguistics. It is the one area of study where everything seems to click. The rhythms of intonation, the rules (and rule breaks) of grammar, the myriad of words and phrases and idioms all just make sense to her. She doesn’t have to struggle through, desperately racing to keep pace with Gamora. Sometimes, very rarely, she is even the one to attain the highest score on their tests. It helps that their tutor, an aged Kymellian mare that goes by Ytta, is always happy to give gentle words of encouragement. Nebula, starved of attention as she is, craves those few words as much as she craves a victory against her siblings in the training arena.


	8. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula's thoughts as six simple words change everything.

_You will always be my sister_.

Gamora’s words slam into Nebula. They pierce her right through to her soul, ripping through everything she is. For a moment everything is completely still. Then Nebula’s reality cracks, shattering into an infinite number of shards that tumble away. She is left alone in a wide abyss of nothing. She is falling but there is no direction to her movements as she plummets. Fragments of memories, images and sounds and feelings, glimmer just out of her grasp. She can’t think. She can’t feel. She can’t breathe.

_She can’t breathe._

Just as Nebula is on the verge of surrendering to the endless nothing, a feeling returns. Warmth. Slowly, other sensations follow. The familiar whirring of her implants. Two arms, softly wrapped around her body. The faint scent of flowers. The harsh lighting of the Ecclector. Nebula releases a breath she does not remember holding. With the return of her senses, her memories soon resurface. She recalls the Ravager funeral, the solemn vigil of the Guardians, the suffocating emotions that had made her walk away (as she just wasn’t strong enough to _face_ them). Gamora, as always unable to just accept things as they are, following her. Their confrontation on the bridge, leading to this. This… embrace.

Deep within Nebula, something flickers. A tiny spark, long dormant, finally awoken by this new revelation. Slowly, the movements hesitant and awkward, she allows herself to return the embrace. For a few glorious seconds she feels neither anger nor pain. There is only peace, as wondrous as it is foreign. Even as she breaks the embrace, turns and walks away even though a part of her screams to stay, that spark continues to shine brightly.

Gamora shattered her world. _Her sister_ reassembled the pieces.


	9. Guardians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula considers the Guardians of the Galaxy and what it really means to guard the universe.

It is a slow cycle. Nebula got just a little too close during her scouting mission and was spotted by Corvus. She was able to escape of course, but the damage her craft (built for speed and stealth, not outright combat) sustained was near catastrophic. It has taken three cycles to restore everything to working order. Now she floats in space, waiting for the newly repaired warp drive to recharge.

With nothing to do and no space in the cramped cockpit to stretch, let alone swing her batons, Nebula’s mind wanders. Inexplicably she finds her thoughts turning to her sister’s band, the _Guardians of the Galaxy_. Even thinking the name causes her face to twist into an involuntary sneer. Most of them can barely keep themselves alive, let alone protect anything else. They do not deserve such a title.

And yet, when she stops to think about it, maybe the name is not so misplaced after all. They did save Xandar from destruction at Ronan’s hands. It pains her to think of all the people, all the _children_ , who would have died as she turned a blind eye to the zealot’s rampage. Still, Xandar is but one world in a galaxy of inhabited planets. Perhaps her sister and her crew should have gone for Guardians of Xandar? However there is also the matter of their latest battle to consider. If he is to be believed (and Nebula has had enough experience of "evil father figures" to have her doubts), Peter’s celestial father Ego would have replaced all life in the galaxy with himself. The Guardians stopped him, truly living up to their name. Nebula herself had helped defeat Ego. Does that mean _she_ could be considered a Guardian? Nebula quickly dismisses the thought. She is no guardian; she is the thing guardians must protect their charges _from_. She has never been, and will never be, a guardian. Just as she has never had a guardian herself.

From what Nebula has observed of the universe, she understands parents are supposed to act as guardians to their offspring. They are supposed to protect them, shelter them from the harsher aspects of life until they have grown enough to face them. She has no memory of her own birth parents. Maybe they tried to be her guardians or maybe they did not. It matters little, for any attempt they may have made to protect her failed miserably. Unwillingly or not, they let her be taken by Thanos. If Nebula had been in her parent’s place, she would have slit her child’s throat without a moment’s hesitation. Better a swift and painless end than a life of agony worse than death.

Thanos was certainly no guardian to her. For years she deluded herself, pretending every punishment and enhancement was to protect her, to make her finally strong enough to succeed. That turned out to be a lie, another joke played by the universe at her expense. Gamora is the only family she has that is worthy of the name. Despite her best intentions, even Gamora ( _the_ favourite daughter, _the_ deadliest woman in the galaxy) is incapable of going back in time to save Nebula. But maybe, just maybe, she and the other Guardians can stop what happened to her ever happening again.

Nebula thinks she can approve of a cause like that. Still she cannot stand alongside them, not yet (maybe not ever). But that doesn’t mean she cannot help. Individually and collectively the Guardians have many enemies. From the victims of Thanos eager for revenge on his prized assassin to the few surviving scientists of Halfworld, there are many sentients who would like nothing more than to see them dead. Who guards the Guardians?

Nebula is no Guardian. She cannot save the galaxy. But, in her own way, she can protect the people who _can_.


	10. Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula is the Judas goat. She and Gamora just don't know it yet.

Growing up, Nebula and Gamora learned to view one another as rivals. Each constantly had to keep one eye on the other. They could not afford to fall behind. Failure to complete a task where the other succeeded was punished just as harshly as losing one of their many fights. Gamora never stopped winning, but she could not afford to grow complacent. Nebula was always hot on her heels, forever improving as she desperately chased her sister’s higher standards.

Both were aware that Thanos would not hesitate to replace Gamora with Nebula if the need arose. For Gamora that knowledge provided the fear needed to quell her horror at what was asked of them, to force her to bury her compassion deep within her. For Nebula that knowledge provided the spark she needed to keep her anger burning, to pick herself up off the ground after each defeat and keep fighting.

What neither knew, what neither knows even now, is that Thanos never viewed them as equals. Even if Nebula had beaten Gamora in a fight he would have still dragged her kicking and sobbing to the medical chamber for another round of enhancements. Gamora was his favoured child, shaped into the perfect weapon; Thanos had no need of a replacement. Of course, he’d have never kept Nebula alive if she served him no purpose. Everything Thanos does, everything he has done and is yet to do, is carefully crafted to form a part of his grand plan to save the universe.

Nebula’s role in that great plan was simple: she was to be Thanos’s Judas goat. Thanos may be arrogant, but even he saw the potential for betrayal in Gamora’s defiant stares and refusal to be broken by him. That is why when his razed half of Luphom, the next world he visited several months after Zen Woberi, he took a young girl. He knew Gamora would be let down by her greatest weakness, her _compassion_ , and become attached to the girl. Just like that, his trap was sprung.

If Gamora ever turned on him and fled, he could be sure that her attachment would eventually send her running back. As long as he held Nebula, he could always find Gamora eventually. Admittedly holding onto Nebula as she had grown up had proved more of a challenge than he’d anticipated. Ever adaptable, he had merely shifted his plan to include a new element. Enhancements. They ensured Nebula would be unable to hide (her cybernetics were all too easy to trace) with the added benefit of manipulating her emotions, playing on jealousy and resentment to prevent her uniting with Gamora to turn against him.

In the end, Thanos’s plan works better than he could ever have hoped. Despite Nebula and Gamora reconciling as sisters, Nebula still leaves on her own and comes right to him. She makes the best attempt on his life he’s ever experienced, but ultimately the Trojans he implanted in her cybernetics perform as intended. When Gamora too comes into his possession once more, he only has to start torturing Nebula for all her stubborn defiance to evaporate. Secrets she swore to die before sharing with him come tumbling out, and he is able to secure the most mysterious of the Infinity Gems.

Thanos spares a brief moment to mourn the waste his plan wrought. There may never again be a warrior quite like Gamora, and some of the spare parts integrated into Nebula were one-of-a-kind. He almost regrets sacrificing them, both Gamora and the technology.

_Almost_.


	11. Mythology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nebula has a secret interest in astronomy myths.

Nebula has always liked stars. Without them no life could exist in the universe. They provide essential energy and at their hearts produce the atoms that make up everything, from the smallest spec of space dust to the largest Acanti. Every part of Nebula, both her own and those wielded to her by Thanos, is made of stardust. Although she’s never shared it with another soul she draws strength from the thought that she is made of the same particles that assemble to form her namesake.

Throughout her life, Nebula has secretly indulged in her one “useless” passion. Stars will not make her stronger, will provide her with no strategic advantage, will not allow her to finally defeat Gamora and avoid another round of enhancements. She does not care. At every opportunity she steals away to gaze out at the vast expanse of space. As Sanctuary moves through the cosmos, the tapestry of stars slowly shifts. The longer she looks the more there is to see. After her left eye is augmented, she can pick out distant celestial bodies that no sentient would be able to detect with their naked eyes. She treasures these all the more, secret wonders she alone bears witness to.

When Thanos begins deploying her and Gamora, Nebula learns that she is not alone in her fascination with the stars. It seems that on every planet with an atmosphere that does not block the view of space there are branches of scientific or mystical arts dedicated to the stars. In addition to these more rigorous studies there are stories. Histories woven alongside fables, lessons about navigation merged with tales created to amuse, legends married with religious rites. Although there is sometimes a thematic overlap, the stories are largely unique to each sentient race. Secretly Nebula starts to collect them, amassing a thousand tales from a thousand worlds in her brain.

There are countless tales of Gods and historical figures consigned to the skies, immortalised as constellations as a reward for heroic acts or punishment for heinous crimes. Other stories point to the stars themselves being living creatures, from kindly overlords to horrifying monsters. Yet more explain natural phenomenon, from changing seasons to interactions between magnetic fields and charged solar particles. Stars guide lost travels back to civilisation and warn lost souls of the perils of immoral actions.

Nebula likes each story to some extent, but her favourite comes from a small planet in the Milky Way. Sneep, like many inhabited worlds, is a small rocky planet about 2/3rds covered in water. The Sneepers, despite gaining mastery of spaceflight and conquering the other planets in their solar system, have never really left their star. That has done nothing to dampen their imagination, and they tell a range of stories about the constellations seen from their planet.

Nebula’s favourite is the tale of Har’neth and Gleer. Sisters, according to the legend they trained together until adulthood as is the usual for Sneeper families. The sisters gained a reputation, both for their beauty and their skills. Har’neth favoured a lance-like blade, whilst Gleer’s choice of arms was a Warhammer. As such the sisters were never in direct competition, and as a result were incredibly close. Their reputation grew so much that they attracted the interest of the local warlord. He sent his army to capture both, dishonourably ordering the strike when they slept. The sisters were captured and returned to the warlord’s labyrinthine base. There they were separated.

The warlord approached each in turn, offering them the opportunity to be his bride and rule at his side if they would forsake the other and swear fealty only to him. Both Har’neth and Gleer steadfastly refused. Flying into a fit of rage, the warlord ordered the two to be tortured until one broke. The torture was carried out for several cycles, until a soldier of the warlord made a mistake allowing Gleer to break free of her bonds. Instead of escaping, she immediately searched for her sister. On discovering Har’neth she freed her too. Unfortunately by that point the warlord had discovered Gleer’s escape. He ordered all his soliders to hunt the sisters down. Trapped deep within the heart of the base, the sisters stood no chance of escape. The legend tells how they died a glorious death, back to back with the blood of their enemies staining their fists and a defiant roar on their lips. Such was the sister’s loyalty to one another that even after death they could not be separated. It is said that they can still be seen at night, two stars joined at the hip to shine together.

Nebula knows that it is really a binary star, not two long dead warriors, which causes the twin pulses of light. Even with this knowledge she prefers to cling to the legend. Back when she could still sleep, she would sometimes dream that she was Har’neth and Gamora, her Gleer, was already on her way to free her from Thanos’s chains so they could die together and _free_. Now she is incapable of such dreams even if she wanted to chase them. Gamora never did come and save her, and yet somehow both escaped Thanos’s clutches. But maybe that is not a bad thing. Maybe the two of them, together at last, can change the end of the story as well. Maybe one cycle, years from now, some sentient will point to the stars and recount the tale of Gamora and Nebula and how, against all odds, they saved the galaxy by ridding it of Thanos.


End file.
